Music of the Night
by Fork's Most Wanted
Summary: This is a mix of Phantom of The Opera and Twilight, with a twist! The Phantom's not a ghost or a man, but a Vampire. Can Jacob save poor Bella from this monster of song and darkness? Does She even want to leave the misunderstood Edward? Is it BxJ or BxE!


**Okay, I guess I'll say a few things before you actually begin reading this. For everyone that has seen Phantom of the Opera, you know how great of a movie it is (At least, those of you who can appreciate it: P). Well, I've wanted to do this for awhile, but I never really got around to starting it. But since its summer, I figured now it the perfect time. I will only continue the story if I get reviews, so please!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own POTO or Twilight, blah, blah, blah.**

_**France, 1866**_

I looked over the dark, only illuminated by a small candle. The candle gave off just enough light to show me the poor condition that my father was in. I heaved a heavy sigh and turned to exit the room, and later the manor.

My father was such a good man, and a great violinist. He often took me to his concerts and shows all over the lands. His bow and fingers had moved so swiftly across the sweet sounding instrument. He was loved by everyone.

But then, he was beginning to show signs of a sickness. He was so overcome by it, we had to settle down on a reservation on the west side of France, and that's where we've been residing for the past years.

His condition only worsened now and, I feared, he was in his last days. A single tear slid down my cheek as I closed the heavy oak door behind me. I headed down the banks of the lake, down to the spot where I spent a lot of my evening laying.

As I was sprawled out on the grass, faint footsteps that could barely be heard approached from behind me. I twisted my neck to see my playmate and companion, Jacob Black.

"Hello, Bella." Jacob nodded. He proceeded to take a seat next to me Jacob had been my friend for a few years now, and I guess you could say I'd developed a crush on him. I'm not sure if I could say the same for him, though. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

"Hey, Jake!" I greeted him with as much enthusiasm as I could muster, given the circumstances. He only smiled down at me for a moment before returning his gaze to the ripples of the lake before us.

I sighed once more, which I seemed to be doing a lot of, because Jacob looked at me again. I was suddenly self conscious, what with my hair being frayed from my head in the dirty grass.

"Rough night with your father?" I simply nodded. I honestly didn't think I could explain everything that would have needed to be said if I opened my mouth at this point. I fear I would break into sobs. "I'm sorry, Bells." He reached over and grabbed my hand, to comfort me I suppose. On all of my fourteen, I don't think things have ever been this bad.

Jacob and I sat there for awhile. I couldn't be sure how long, since my mind seemed to be in overdrive. I pondered over random though and such, about my childhood, my status of friendship with Jacob (Well, he was holding my hand, wasn't he?), and what I would do if my father were to pass on anytime soon. Would I stay here at the reservation?

I was still thinking over such things when I heard more footsteps. I assumed it was just Quil or Embry, two of Jacob's friends, searching for him. I closed my eyes, trying to put my mind to rest.

"Miss Swan! Oh, Miss Swan! Come Now! Your father wishes to speak with you immediately!" My maid had made me jump with the loud tone of her words. The urgency in her voice scared me. I quickly said my good-byes to Jacob and followed the maid as she fought heavily to push her weight back up the bank to our manor.

I decided that it wasn't important to enter the room with her, so I ran as fast as my thin legs would carry me. Unfortunately, in my haste, I nearly fell flat on my face. I recovered though, and trudged my way up the stairs.

When I had burst open the door to my father's bedroom, my father already had his head turned in my direction. I took in his features as if it was the last time I would ever see him. His curly hair was rapidly thinning, and he had put on an amount of weight, but he was still my loving, kind, talented father, none the less.

He smiled a weak smile and urged me to come closer. I took three big steps and knelt down at his bedside. He ran his fingers through my hair.

"My sweet, sweet child." I smiled at his touch. I was his only daughter, I know, so he had always put his interest in me before his music, and just thinking of his amazing music abilities, I knew it meant a lot. "You know I will not be here much longer."

Though I knew the time was approaching quickly, it still hurt to hear the words said aloud. I hadn't realized it before, but the tears had already come, and were streaming down my face. I let out a horrible sob and he grabbed my hand.

"Don't be sad, sweetheart, for when I'm gone and in heaven, I will send the angel of music down to you, so you will know that I am here." I smiled, despite the situation. He continued his words. "The angel will tutor you, and your beautiful voice will grow and mature as you do." I shook my head. I'd never though myself a great singer, despite what everyone has said. "Stop it, child. There is much in store for you. I wish you to know, that I will always be here, and that I love you." And with that, my father took his final breath, closing his eyes.

I let out the tears that I'd held inside, and the sobs came out ferociously.

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I sat in a chair, awaiting the one who would escort me to Paris. It was arranged that I move there to study ballet at a famous opera house. Normally, I would have been excited, if not overjoyed, to get this opportunity…but since my father's death, I'm sad to be leaving my home, my memories, and my friends. Somewhere in the back of my mind, though I refused to admit it, I knew I would miss Jacob.

My maid came over and placed my luggage at my feet, then gave me a sympathetic smile as she went to answer the knock at the door. I took a deep breath to steady myself for what was to happen next.

A middle aged woman with a stern, yet kind, face entered the room, a pretty petite girl with short black hair not far behind her. She looked to be around my age. I smiled as a greeting to them.

"Hello, Isabella," The older woman said. "My name is Esme Giry, but you may refer to me as Madame Giry. This is my daughter Alice." As she was introduced, the young girl curtsied.

"Please to make your acquaintance," I stood and smiled myself. "I'm sure I'll love the Opera House, and especially Paris." Madame Giry gave me a kind smile, and offered me her hand. I'd always had a habit of referring to people by their first names, and I had already started calling Madame Giry Esme in my mind. I took her hand and she led the other girl, Alice, and I to the waiting carriage. The last of my maids took care of my luggage, carefully putting it in the back.

As the carriage took me out of the place I'd spent so long growing accustomed to, I couldn't help but take one last glimpse at what was now my past. I turned around in my seat and took in the glorious lake one last time.


End file.
